


I Cast Your Name In The Stars

by BlaiddDrwg1982



Series: Soulmate AU [1]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex’s Dad is a Asshole, Canon typical violence., Don’t drink nail polish remover kids, Except they will swear, Just Friends, M/M, May update the maturity level to explicit, Michael and Maria Broship, Oh lord will they swear, Some Homophobic language and themes, Soul Mate AU, They hooked up in the past but that is WAY done, not sure, semi canon compliant, soul marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-11-06 22:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17948405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaiddDrwg1982/pseuds/BlaiddDrwg1982
Summary: Michael didn’t understand why his soul mark was a scar that looked like stitches on his leg, until Alex came back bearing a similar scar which carried with it a tragic pronouncement of how he got it...





	1. In the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [im2old4thisotp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/im2old4thisotp/gifts).



> Specific chapter warnings will be added at the beginning of each chapter and if it’s going to be recurring I WILL put it into the master tags list.
> 
> Suffice to say I don’t own the characters. I’m just borrowing them for the time being. Don’t sue. 
> 
> Huge thanks already to my lovely friend ‘im2old4thisotp’ who is kindly letting me ask some asinine questions.
> 
> Unbeta’ed.

The thing that confused the siblings the most as they grew older, was that these humans had what was widely known as a soul mate. While they didn’t have a frame of reference from the distant world they originated from, the concept in an of itself sounded unfamiliar. Foreign. Like so many other things on this world. Was it something that existed where they were from? It was anyone’s guess really. What they knew was that these humans would manifest a mark that would be a perfect match to something on their perfect partner. Sometimes it was the manifestation of a tattoo that their partner just got. Sometimes it was a birth mark. There was never any rhyme or reason to what it was, just that IT was. For Max, Isobel and Michael, they’d resigned themselves at the tender age of 9 to the understanding it probably wasn’t something they’d ever experience. Plenty of people didn’t have a soul mark, or the relationship with their soul mate never came to fruition as the person lived on the other side of the world, or it was even platonic. 

Which was why it came as a surprise when they moved to Roswell’s middle school from their primary, that Michael should wake up one morning with a dull throb in his leg the day after they started at the new school. Keeping it hidden from the leaders of the group home was easy. As long as no-one was missing at morning count, or after school, they were about as hands off as you’d expect a bunch of disinterested workers to be. It suited him just fine, and it helped avoid a lot of uncomfortable questions. The other kids tended to give him a pretty wide berth as well, not wanting to associate with him because he was a little...odd...compared to the rest of them. Again. Not something he was going to complain about. You could barely make out the outline, but it definitely looked like a surgical scar. It was faint, but he could tell it was there. Max and Isobel were curious about it, but didn’t have much to add where it was concerned. 

While he didn’t actively seek out anyone with the same mark, he wasn’t exactly NOT looking for it either. If they could find a soul match on Earth, despite not being from here, it made Michael feel a little less alone. Izzy and Max had been adopted together, leaving him behind. Selfishly, he secretly hoped they wouldn’t develop a soul mark. They had each other, being twins and all. As much as he was their brother, he was alone. This soul mark meant that maybe, just maybe, he’d find his match on the tiny green and blue orb that was so far from his original home. And maybe, if he thought about it just hard enough, it would mean he wasn’t abandoned after all. 

Every once and a while he would feel it tingle, and when he was able he would stare at it, as though afraid it would disappear as suddenly as it appeared. It only seemed to get slightly more pronounced if anything. He picked up every book he could to read up on these phenomena. The first thing he’d discovered was that it was incredibly rare to have a visible one before puberty. As he was on the cusp of what appeared to be human puberty, and not having a frame of reference for his specific species they were just winging it at this point. Slowly as the years progressed the mark became darker and darker until he was in his senior year of high school where it wasn’t possible to get much darker.

Around this time, along with his siblings, he started hanging around a select few other people around the school, among them Liz, her ass of a boyfriend Kyle, his various hangers on. He always felt like an outsider though. Hovering around the outside of their social misfits group was Alex. A smart quiet guy with a proclivity towards music, dark nail polish, and hiding the bruises on his arms and chest that were beyond what normally happened with a bunch of testosterone fuelled teenage boys rough housing. They didn’t talk too much, but they spent time together, playing the guitar, and lapsing into long bouts of utter silence that let him quiet the demons inside, and seemed to provide Alex a refuge from the shit storm his life seemed to be.

It was no secret that Alex was gay. Michael had even caught himself glancing to his left when they were changing for gym class. A small blush always appearing but easily hidden under the tan he had developed from the countless hours working out doors. For as quiet and as timid as Alex appeared...there was no reason for him to worry about anything like that. He’d long since (mostly) dropped the comparison between him and humans. 

He knew that the butterflies in his stomach that appeared whenever he was in spitting distance of Alex was more than just what he’d been eating. He found his gaze lingering on the minute details. The shadow of Alex’s eyelashes on his cheeks. The crinkle at his eyes when he throws himself into a full body laugh. The delicate way he strums and picks his guitar strings. The soft smile when no-one appears to be watching him read his favourite books. The way he leaned forward just slightly when Michael was talking, without even realizing it.

Yeah. He noticed it all. To say he was more than slightly gone on Alex was an understatement. Near as he could tell though, Alex only saw him as a friend. A good friend, and someone he enjoyed jamming out with, but a friend nevertheless. If that’s all he could get from Alex though? He was more than okay with it. He’d tried dating before. It never really took though. They were nice and all, and the few times he decided to give sex a whirl were nothing to write home about. Everyone had enjoyed themselves, that was the important thing. He DID have a reputation to maintain after all. Top of the class was one thing. That didn’t actually help you blend in with your peers so much as make you stand out. 

Alex was right beneath him in rankings, and in the wee hours of the morning he dreamt about him being beneath him for other reasons as well. If he accidentally knocked out a wall once or twice with his toes curling and Alex’s name on his lips, there were no witnesses so it didn’t count. Right? Right.

It didn’t matter his soul mark tingled when he was around Alex Manes. Not in the least. Because Alex didn’t have a matching one. It didn’t matter that his skin puckered with goosebumps the one or two times that Alex traced it with his thumb in absolute fascination. It didn’t matter that the lightest touch caused it to burn with a barely constrained sense of want and need. It didn’t matter all. 

Which is why, towards the end of their senior year, while exchanging gasping breaths and stolen kisses in Alex’s father’s woodshed, it didn’t matter that there was possibly a soul mate waiting for him out in the world, because his world was reduced to the smiles of the man who was currently buried deep inside him, pressing gentle kisses in a teasing way to the nape of his neck, and the hollow at the base of his throat. It was reduced to the gasping pleas for the tantalizing release while he moved in Alex, chasing the blush as it rose from his chest to his face. It was turned into a world where time and time again the spilled across each other, inside each other, with each other, and because of each other. It was in the space between heartbeats, that they seemed to exist and time stopped, giving over to each other the perfection of simple moments. Of chasing tears down each other’s cheeks as they finally found their place and their purpose in each other’s arms.

What they didn’t count on was Alex’s father finding out, and attacking with the venom he had in the past. Michael knew where the bruises came from. He wasn’t stupid, and Alex had told him. It took every ounce of self control to not break the older man’s face in with a thought. When he came to the shed, and barged into the world they had created, reacting on instinct that he didn’t know he had, he threw himself between Alex and his father. He bore the brunt of the abuse until the older man left, dragging Alex bodily back to the house, but thankfully without any weapons to hurt him with. The words and his fists would have to be enough. Then he had to bandage himself up, and bury his rage, bury his pain, and help cover up another murder, as he’d done when they were children in the desert. 

He took care of himself, and kept his distance from Alex, so his love wouldn’t bear the pain his father would dole out. He gave Alex every reason to walk away from him, because he wasn’t strong enough to walk away from Alex. He’d lost his world once when they arrived all those decades ago. He couldn’t lose his world again. So instead he made Alex leave him. Taking a piece of him with, every time he walked away with a look of hurt and sadness in his eyes. For years they continued on. Deployments came and went. At least once or twice between tours Alex would find his way to Michael and the dance would begin again. Each time Michael fell more and more in love with the human who had taught him that he wasn’t alone on this green and blue world. And every time, he pushed back to save Alex the pain of falling in love with him, and facing the destruction his father would reap if he knew.

Three weeks after their last hasty goodbye, the anger in Alex’s face at the stupid stunt Michael had pulled to ensure he wasn’t loving him when he went back overseas, Michael woke up from a tormented dream, clutching his soul mark and screaming as though he were being flayed alive. The distress call went out to Max and Izz who had made their way to him as fast as was possible. When they arrived, the structures surrounding his trailer had been flattened as though a bomb went off. They could hear his mindless screams before they even entered the trailer. The look of pain and fear on his face galvanized his siblings into action. Izz tried to calm his mind, and Max tried to heal him. The lights flickering and going out showed the effort his brother was making, but it didn’t seem to do him any good. The pain was there and it wasn’t budging. Slipping into a state of shock, Michael all but passed out, leaving Max and Isobel to look at his leg he’d been clutching so tightly. His soul wound was bleeding, and nothing they could do would stop the trickle of blood.

Staring blankly up at the ceiling as the wound slowly healed, he rolled on his side, feeling a half of himself near empty. 

“It wasn’t me.”

Max quirked an eyebrow in question.

“The injury. It wasn’t me. Who ever was the reason for me to get this,” he indicated his soul mark. “It was their pain. Not mine.”

Taking a swig of nail polish remover, he lay back down, closing his eyes and willing whoever was the source of the pain to recover and feel relief. Taking a shuddering sob, he felt both sides of his bed dip down as his siblings wrapped him up in their arms, carefully combing their fingers through his sweat soak curls, willing him to fall asleep.

Half a world away, Alex lay in his hospital bed, feeling tendrils of relief spread from the jagged scar of the emergency surgery that saved him after he was nearly killed by an IED. Feeling a tear slip down his face, and the whispered feeling of fingers tracing his brow, he fell into a sleeping state.

And then the nightmares began.


	2. Another Link in the Chain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Called back with a dire pronouncement, Michael find his way back to a not so welcoming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be kind about the time line that I’m taking some minor liberties with. No major trigger warnings in this one. Some obvious signs of emotional neglect. Reference to Alex’s dad being the one to injur Michael.

“Michael. We need you to come home.”

The voicemail was left for him nearly two weeks ago while he was driving through Oklahoma. The stabbing pain in his leg had dulled to a painful throb that didn’t show any signs of abating. Over the last few months, he found he could ignore it enough to go on with his life. 

Ignore it enough to get the hell out of town and clear his head for a while. It’s wasn’t like anyone would really miss him. The abortive attempts at hookups did nothing to dull the ache he felt every time he passed by Alex’s house, or even looked at the military base. He’d ashamedly held the hope of a uniformed Alex coming home to him close to his heart for far longer than was reasonable. 

He knew better though. He knew better and only had himself to blame.

He’d taken to starting fights. Getting black out drunk. Living down to every preconceived notion of what a kid who grew up in foster care should behave like. He did everything in his power he could think of to make himself as undesirable as possible to anyone to avoid getting attached. To avoid being vulnerable. To keep his distance even from his siblings and their dark secret. He’d always been an outsider. Now he was just doing what he could to make sure everyone else knew that.

Besides. Behind everyone’s backs he’d been working on his degree for the past few years. Bit by bit and when he had the money on hand. No-one was going to be stupid enough to give him a loan. But he’d been working on his degree. The catalyst was one of his less than wonderful rendezvous with Alex when he was rotating back State side between tours. Things went supremely off the rails with Alex, leaving the other man walking away from him with a look of, not anger, but sadness and a sense of hurt he hadn’t seen since that night all those years ago when Alex’s dad smashed his hand with a hammer. As a result, he felt this burning desire to do...something. Something that would leave his mark as not just the outsider of Roswell. Something that could matter. If, in the quieter recesses of his mind he thought it would be a way to prove himself to Alex and that he wasn’t just a lost cause, there may have been something to that as well. 

In his estimation, he’d failed to protect someone before, and he’d be damned if he did it again. The town thought he was a screw up? Fine. They were welcome to that opinion. A few months away, that’s all he needed.

Not that anyone would really care he was on the fast track to his mechanical engineering degree anyway. He’d passed up a full ride and deferred too many times because of the incident with Rosa, and having to stay to keep Isabel in check, everyone just thought of him as the loser on the outskirts of town. He hadn’t even told his siblings, preferring them all to think so lowly of him that they didn’t have any expectations of him. He genuinely didn’t know if they’d even be happy for him that he’d still been making the dean’s list. Nearly a full decade since high school, his siblings content in the roles they had in Roswell, seeming to, again, forget that he was there. Until they needed him of course. 

“Michael. Seriously. You need to come home. Now.”

Max knew the password to his phone finder app, so it wasn’t like they didn’t know where he was. He had theirs too. He wasn’t stupid. They all had to watch each other’s backs. But so far the greatest danger Michael had found himself in, involved a bar fight over a rigged game of pool that he still managed to win. Telekinesis had some practical uses beyond grabbing a fresh beer from the motel fridge, or the towel from across the bathroom after having a shower. 

Not looking too closely at the text messages, so long as they weren’t of dire importance, they were only from Isobel and Max, with the occasional one from Liz, and even Kyle had sent a few messages. Likely at the behest of his siblings thinking he’d find it strange that someone he barely spoke to was messaging him. 

The petty part of him may or may not have sent Kyle a dick pic or two as his way of telling him to go fuck himself. He didn’t have anything to be ashamed of after all, and he would deny it to his dying breath when Kyle’s reply of, “Selfie? Great hair cut,” made him chuckle to himself a couple times. At least, with that, they knew he was still alive. Just not ready to go back home just yet. 

During the day, he could keep most thoughts at bay. Allowing himself to just focus on the drive, switching the CD from time to time, and picking up snack food on the way. He found himself chasing the open skies, and avoiding cities as much as possible. He’d stick to ‘off the ramp’ motels and bars. On occasion he would even set up camp in the box of his truck under the open skies. 

He didn’t know why it was that some nights he had the urge to sleep under the stars, but he was grateful he did. Especially if it was far from civilization. He’d wake up those nights screaming from nightmares and agony that wasn’t his to carry. Gasping at the rawness in his throat, he looked around and more than a few times a stand of trees would be felled, or other times there would be patterns in the sand that closely matched those on the piece of spacecraft he was trying to translate still. Sweeping away the alien script with his foot, he’d usually be able to get another hour or two of sleep before setting out on the road again. 

It wasn’t until he’d reached a small town in North East Maine that he got a voicemail from Max that would, without fail, draw him back.

“Michael. You need to come home. It’s about Alex.”

Feeling his heart sink to his toes, he sent off his final paper for the semester, packed up and started driving west. He had only told Max and Isobel the bare basics about his relationship with Alex. He left out a few details, like Alex’s father being the one who broke his hand, and the fact he became such a royal shit head in order to keep Alex from falling in love with him and thus keeping him safe from his Dad. He’d definitely left out the detail that they had hooked up a few times.

He left out the fact that he had fallen so deeply in love with Alex, he didn’t even care that he had a supposed soul mate waiting for him Somewhere. He left out anything that would point out how deeply he loved the other man, to the point where he’d almost convinced himself he didn’t. Though he failed that part miserably. They knew enough though, that the single mention of his name would bring him back from wherever in the world he would be. 

Opening his messages app, he simply wrote back, “2 days,” then sent it.

Driving straight through the days and night, stopping only for gas, food, and to relieve himself, he found himself pulling into the town he’d hoped to forget for a while, and he’d hoped would forget him in his all too short absence. Judging by the angry looks he got from some of locals, he was still very much a topic of conversation. 

Pulling through the streets and parking in front of Crash Down, he spotted his brother and sister sitting at a booth, sipping coffee that, if he were to place a bet, was probably spiked with some nail polish remover. The tight look on Isabel’s face and the apprehension on Max’s, he felt whatever joke was clawing to the surface die on his tongue. Max’s uniform looked simultaneously fresh and wrinkled. A deputy who had obviously been putting in some long hours, but kept a fresh uniform at work, but without the thought to iron it. 

“Okay. What about Alex?”

Izzy shifted uncomfortably and reached out to take his hand in a show of support. What nearly pushed him into an anxiety attack was when Max did the same. He could feel the blood draining from his face. The diner’s motif spun around his head and he fought for equilibrium while at the same time trying to keep a lid on his powers. Anxiety attacks, telekinesis, and a diner full of breakable destructive things was NOT a good bundle for the tourists to see.

“Alex was in an accident on his last tour. They were doing a patrol and there was an IED rigged in a car that was blocking their path. When Alex was getting close...it detonated.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, expecting to hear the worst news since Alex told him he was joining the military. Like his father.

“The IED detonated early, and Alex was fast enough to shield the guy he was patrolling with from the worst of it. He’s still alive, but he lost part of his leg.”

A guilty feeling of relief flooded through him at the proclamation. Alex was alive. Injured. But alive.

“When,” he cleared his throat after his voice broke in relief. “When did it happen?”

Max and Izzy exchanged a glance that left him feeling equal parts angry and suspicious. 

“About two weeks after...” Max glanced down at the leg with his soul mark. 

Thumping back in his seat, he pulled his hands back, more than a little stunned at the revelation. Two weeks after he woke up with his leg feeling like it was exploding, Alex had been injured. There was nothing he had read in any of the literature he’d come across that would explain that. 

“Is he...where is he staying?”

“He’s still over seas, but he’s supposed to be coming back in the next couple days. There were a few complications with the surgery. Swelling, some clots, hyper tension. Because of all that he wasn’t able to fly back. They’d discovered all this during a lay over in Frankfurt. He was taken to a hospital over there but the travelling was slow going because of the complications. They stabilized him, fixed up everything so he could fly home, but they wanted him to be almost completely healed by the time he came back.”

Nodding his head numbly he felt his heart jackhammering in his chest. If he were a betting man, which he was, he’d almost be willing to put money on the days where the complications were really bad were on or around when he’d been out in the woods or the desert and flattened everything around him. But he was coming home, so he felt a tiny flicker of optimism.

At least he was coming home.

Nodding his head slowly, to let them know he hadn’t gone completely into his own head, he gave their hands a squeeze and favoured them both with a wan smile. Extracting his hands from their, he was able to pull himself together enough that he wasn’t worried about his voice cracking.

“I guess he’s going back to his Dad’s place while he’s recovering.”

Max nodded his head. Michael nodded his in return. That also meant a reunion wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. 

“They also have to do the moulding for his prosthetic, physio. The whole nine yards.”

To that Isobel snorted a little. The tension that they’d been studiously ignoring came down just a little bit.

“You sound like Dad.”

Max smiled at that, to which Michael did as well. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He always made sure to look amused with these kinds of observations between Max and Isobel. It wasn’t that he had anything against Mr. and Mrs. Evans. They’d always been nice to him, and were among the few people who actually STILL hadn’t completely given up on him. 

“Well. We all know that Mr. Manes hates my guts so I won’t get within half a mile of the place. Things weren’t exactly fantastic the last time we saw each other and I really don’t think he’d be down for a visit from me anyway.”

Taking a sip of the coffee that had somehow appeared in front of him, he ran his hands through his hair, grimacing as he pulled more than a few tangles out. Naturally curly hair was wonderful. Except when it wasn’t. Having not showered for a couple days definitely fell in the not so wonderful category. Max knew that much at the very least. He was persona non grata at the Manes residence. Max wasn’t sure why, never having even asked about the broken hand, but he did know that Michael avoided that place like the plague. 

“Okay. Thanks for telling me. I’ll make sure to lay low so his Dad doesn’t see that I’m back in town. If you happen to see Alex around though just...let him know I am where I usually am.”

He’d made sure to detour to enter the town by way of his trailer to make sure it was still there. Everything looked untouched and the door was still locked. 

Throwing a few bills down on the table to cover his coffee, he stretched, wincing a bit at his smell.

“Damn it I need a shower. I’ll see you two later.”

Walking towards the door, Max got up and followed closely behind. Once they were out the door, Max grabbed his brother by the arm and sidelined him into the alley way. Michael wasn’t even remotely close to surprised, sadly.

“Where were you when you finally answered?”

Michael levelled his gaze on Max, all joviality drained from his eyes. He was tired. He stank. His hair was greasy. Oh yes. And the love of his life who didn’t even know or care that he was the love of Michael’s life was laid up at home with a family that did not understand or care about him. Not really.

“North East Maine Max. When I told you I needed to get away, I meant it. Now unless you’re offering to drive me home and help me into the shower, you best let go of me. Deputy.”

Pulling his arm free, Michael went to his truck, got in and drove off. Going on autopilot until he was back at the tin can he called home, he flicked the lock without using his key and pulled the door open.

The trailer smelled musty, and very much like it had been closed up for a while, but there was remarkably little dust. Probably one of his siblings showing they could be a decent...whatever species they were. 

Tossing his duffle bag that held his laptop and the few clean clothes he owned, he made his way to the bathroom to start the shower. It took a while for the hot water tank to remember its purpose in life, but it eventually sputtered to life, filling the closet like bathroom with steam. Letting the water temperature stabilize, he peeled himself out of his clothes, tossing them in the hamper in his closet. Which is to say he kicked them under his bed and made a note to either go to Max’s to do laundry, call Noah and stop by his and Isabel’s place and do laundry, or just set it all on fire and buy new clothes.

Stepping into the shower with a slight hiss as the water was edged just on the other side of too hot, he leaned against the wall and let the water flow. Watching the swirl of dirt run from his body, he made quick work of washing his hair, and cleaning himself off. Shutting the water down, he cringed at the clanking of the pipes, making a mental note to look at that later. Grabbing what was once a clean towel from the small closet, he shook it out, nose wrinkling at the smell of staleness. 

Definitely needed to do laundry.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, he was in no hurry to dress. No-one would bother coming by anyway, and Max and Izzy even knew to knock before coming in. Not that they’d caught him in the midst of doing anything...or anyone...but he tended to sleep in the nude indoors and had seen his pale white ass enough for this lifetime. Their quote. 

Taking the bedding out of the cupboard, he took it outside and hung it on the line to let it air out. Heading back in, he put away his few measly possessions, made sure the piece of alien tech he was trying to translate was still where he’d stashed it, he grabbed the coffee grinds out of the freezer and went to make a cup of coffee. At least these would be okay as they were vacuum sealed, and judging by the bowl of ice cream having not melted, he knew the power hadn’t gone out. That also meant the frozen dinner still had a chance of being barely edible, especially if he dumped enough hot sauce on it to burn a hole through the roof of his ‘home.’

Which meant brother dearest hadn’t had a temper tantrum since he left.

Hearing the door click open, he froze, about to dump the grinds into the coffee maker. Grasping the towel tighter around his waist, he raised an eyebrow at the unexpected guest. Relaxing a bit when he saw the familiar face, he wasn’t completely relaxed. He rarely was. A life in the system had taught him to be wary, and to always expect the other shoe to drop.

“Trust you to show up unannounced and not knowing how to knock.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not ignoring Izzy, I swear. I just haven’t quite found her voice yet. I’ll be doing a rewatch to get to know her a bit more.


	3. Bromance is in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected visit leads to a little soul bearing.

Maria smirked as she shouldered her way into Michael’s Airstream, not at all impressed or shocked about seeing him in such a state of undress. The bags under his eyes were a little concerning though. She’d been used to him carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he always looked like it didn’t bother him much. This was more than just a long drive back. Tossing her bag down on the rickety dining table stuffed in the corner, she dropped to one of the seat and quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You gonna get dressed?”

“You gonna turn around?”

“Michael Guerin. Are you suddenly developing modesty? It’s not like I haven’t taken the tour before.”

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head.

“One drunken hook up doesn’t count Maria,” there was light humour in his voice. They’d hooked up once or twice but it never really...clicked...for them. Good times had by all, the didn’t deny that, but it wasn’t...right. An unlikely duo but they worked together like that.

Making an over dramatic show of covering her eyes, she heard Michael snort again. Feeling some tension relax from the room, she heard him shuffling around and the tell tale sounds of him pulling clothing on. Once he sat down across from her, he knocked Maria’s knee and she opened her eyes. He looked rumpled. Tired. Lost. The energy he was giving off actually made her heart break a little bit. 

Pulling a stack of opened mail out of her bag, she dropped it on the table for him. Anything of importance she’d messaged him about. There wasn’t that much. Bills were paid from the account that he’d left her access to. Her assistance was what let him leave town without being overly concerned about having a place to go back to. There were a few things from his college as well. Grades, that sort of thing.

“Great work on the school thing Michael. I’m sure Max and Isobel would be proud if you actually told them about it.”

Shrugging his shoulders, he actually doubted it.

“I know Alex would be.”

Feeling the blush rise to his cheeks, he looked down and away as he always did when that topic of conversation came up. Which was also one of the reasons why she had stopped by, he was pretty certain at any rate. Leaving that elephant in the room alone for the moment though.

“You also owe me $156.93 to cover your tab at the bar.”

Laughing at that, he felt his eyebrow raise in question.

“I know you’d only been starting some of those fights to get kicked out and dodge your tab. I keep track of things Michael.”

“I thought it was only around $90.”

“I’m tacking on interest and bullshit tax. Rent’s expensive these days. Even in Roswell.”

Grabbing his wallet, he pulled out a few bills and tossed them on the table.

“$170. Pre-paying my first drink when I head down there.”

Folding the money and tossing it into her purse, she didn’t bother counting it. Michael, for all his pain in her ass tendencies, had grown up to be the type of person who, despite how much he was screwed over when he was younger, did his level best to avoid screwing over anyone in the present. If he said $170, he meant $170.

“Should we talk about the elephant in the room?”

“Come on Maria. You didn’t put on that much weight.”

Giving him a look of shock, knowing full well she walked right into that joke, she simply flipped him off and continued.

“Alex. He’s coming back. He’s sent me a few emails when he’s been able to and...he’s really not in a good place right now. He’s not looking forward to coming back here and having to stay with his Dad while he’s recovering. Not that anyone can blame him for that.”

Michael looked down and away. Alex’s home life was bad to begin with. Them getting caught together made it worse. The only saving grace was that Alex was able to ship out to basic training sooner rather than later and got away from his Dad, leaving Michael behind. But he understood it. He didn’t like it, but it fit with his life. 

Everyone he cared about left him eventually. Usually for their own good. Blinking away those thoughts, he looked back at Maria and remembered that there was one person who he hadn’t managed to drive away, and who hadn’t gone running. She didn’t know his Alien secret, but he suspected she wouldn’t care. She stuck around, if only because she was as stubborn as he was. 

“And what exactly do you want me to do about that? I’m not exactly welcome on Manes property for one. Alex hates me for two. Especially after how we left things last time. Three, he’s recovering from losing a limb, the last thing he needs is a fuck up like me getting under foot. Besides. You’re the only person who knows we even hooked up at all...”

“Repeatedly over the last 10 years.”

“We’ve been apart more than together.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“I was protecting...”

Getting to her feet and getting in his face, she levelled the same look on him that she used on Kyle when he was acting like a sanctimonious prick to her. 

“Protecting who Michael? Protecting Alex because you’re such a bad ass who had to leave town to get his head on straight and has been accepted to three different schools for their master’s program before he’s even completed his undergrad? Are you protecting him from the person who went out of his way to look less appealing to get his Dad off his back? Are you protecting him from the guy who has a standing donation at the humane society, anonymous of course, to keep the kittens comfortable? Or are you protecting yourself from the possibility that maybe just maybe if you told him you loved him that he’d stay.”

Michael could barely look her in the eyes. While she wasn’t exactly 100% in her venting, she wasn’t too far off base for most of it either. Stepping back and away from her, he shook his head.

“I don’t deserve him Maria. I love him. I have this soul mark that...I don’t even care about anymore because I love him that much. I left Roswell to try and forget him. I went for my degree to show that maybe I’m not a complete fuck up to him. But I don’t deserve him.”

“Then why is it, whenever he’s in the room, you can’t look anywhere else.”

Blushing at her non-question assessment of the situation, he could only shrug.

“Because there’s nothing else that compares to the way the light hits his eyes. Or the way the corner of his mouth crinkles when he’s trying to not smile. The way he carries himself, strong and proud even though the world has been doing it’s level best to knock him down whenever it could. The way he looks at me and I feel stripped naked and raw and can’t even find it in me to feel ashamed.”

Maria reached out and took his hands in hers. She smiled a sad smile of support.

“You’ve always looked at him like that.”

“Because he’s always been like that. To me.”

Maria gave his hands a squeeze, the pinched expression in her eyes relaxing a shade. 

“Are you going to be sticking around this time?”

Michael nodded numbly.

“Yeah. I’m gonna head over to Isobel and Noah’s. Borrow their washing machine. Maybe grocery shop in their fridge. You know. The usual. Not leaving town yet.”

He shrugged.

“Submitted the last work for this semester and I don’t have any exams this go ‘round so...my time’s my own I guess.”

Favouring him with a satisfied grin, she nodded once.

“It’s good to have you back. Don’t get me wrong I’m still gonna treat you like shit at the bar but...”

“It’s just your way of saying you love me. I know.”

Laughing, she gave him a kiss on the cheek and ruffled his hair.

“Take care of yourself Guerin. Remember. Max and Izzy are lucky to have you as their brother. Whether they’ll admit it or not.”

Watching as Maria walked out of his trailer back to her car, he leaned in the doorway while gathering his laundry behind him. Firing off a message to Noah, since his sister rarely replied to him. Absentmindedly rubbing his soul mark, he frowned. Max had made a preliminary connection between the pain that he’d felt in his leg and what had happened with Alex. But Max knew they were friends though they’d drifted apart. Still. Max hadn’t asked anything, and Izzy didn’t seem at all aware other than the fact she was unusually emotional when it came to anyone that was close to their lives.

Then again being in a fugue state and killing one of your friend’s sisters and completely suppressing the memory and associated personality DID have some funky side effects. His phone buzzed with Noah telling him the backdoor would be unlocked, and the simple question of, “What kind of pizza do you want to order because your sister is ‘cooking’ again tonight.”

Sending his reply, he gathered his laundry and headed over. Tonight, he could just be Michael Guerin. Fuck up target of Izzy’s indifference or over protection. With clean laundry out of the deal and a pizza that tasted like actual pizza.

Driving over to his sister’s, he passed by the Manes’ house and slowed down just a little bit. Alex wasn’t there. He could feel it in his bones. But soon, very soon, he’d be back. And then? Who knew? Maybe eventually he’d find his way to Alex, and he could try rebuilding that bridge.

Or, like every other time he found himself over there, he’d turn and run like he always did.


	4. If I’m Dreaming Don’t Wake Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is where the heart is. But what if one home is empty, and the other one is angry. Where is the heart then?

Alex had returned home. It was hard to miss that little detail with the fact it was front page news in the newspaper, the parade, and the fact that his siblings had been basically live Tweeting whenever they saw him around town, which didn’t happen for the first few days. The convenient thing about that was he was able to avoid running into Alex or his Dad out in public, thereby avoiding an entire awkward confrontation. 

Despite only just being home a short time now, a lot of Alex’s rehab and Physiotherapy had already transpired while they were waiting for him to be able to make the trip back. It was easy to tell he was uncomfortable having his Dad as his perpetual shadow for a great number of reasons, to the point of Alex all but screaming at him at the grocery store to just give him some space to breathe. Izzy had sent him a video clip of it. It was pretty hilarious if he were being honest. Jesse, for half a second, looked a little shame faced, but then That look came back and Michael knew there was going to be hell to pay later. It settled like a lead weight in his stomach, and he knew that tonight he’d be heading over to Alex’s house to keep an eye on things.

Cleaning up as best he could, there wasn’t much to do. Maria had obviously come by a few times to keep things reasonably tidy for his sake. He’d have to remember to thank her for that later. Probably with shots. A lot of shots. 

Putting away the groceries that Noah let him take, if only to keep Isobel from trying to cook ANYTHING with chicken in it, he looked around the trailer and realized he was absolutely bored out of his mind here. He’d look for a job starting tomorrow, but for tonight, he was just going to have to make due with what he could. He heard the crunching of gravel on the road which wasn’t out of the ordinary, so he didn’t bother investigating. He’d heard that the Air Force was sniffing around the property so he just figured it was another drive by.

Grabbing a six pack of beers, he went out to the lawn chairs he had set up and stopped short when he saw that the blue one where he usually sat was occupied.

Making eye contact with the unannounced visitor, he wordlessly handed over a beer and took a seat. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back, content with just the silence of the desert. He felt as though he could even feel the starlight on his face, and allowed himself a tiny smile. For good or for ill, he was home. For good, or for ill, Alex was home too. He was reasonably certain he’d done well with this semester’s course work. He wasn’t worried so much about the grade. He’d even read through a few of the offer letters for his Master’s program. For this he’d pick one closer to home and drop the knowledge bomb on everyone. 

‘What? No. Sorry. Master’s program. I’ll see you at winter break. Assholes.’

Sipping his beer, he glanced over at his silent companion, not really wanting to disturb the peace, but he couldn’t resist either sometimes. 

“Welcome home Alex.”

Without a thought he reached his hand across the gap between the chairs, offering it palm side up to his sometime lover. Smiling and blushing when Alex took his hand, lacing their fingers together, Michael brought the hand up and rubbed his cheek across it, startled to find it wet with tears he didn’t even know he’d shed. Pressing a kiss to it, he let their arms relax, and sipped on the beer, watching the stars.

Turning to look at Alex, he softly whispered, “I love...”

“...you.” Michael woke up and looked to the empty pillow beside him. 

Alex had landed at the base. He knew it. He felt it in his guts and he didn’t know why. Scrubbing his face, he felt the dampness on his cheeks he’d felt in his dreams.

Falling back onto his pillow, he looked at the clock. 5am. Not much of a point in going back to sleep, but no sane person would be up just yet either. The only diners worth going to wouldn’t be open for another hour at least. Shuffling to his closet of a bathroom, he took care of his bladder and stood under the pounding water, hoping it would push out the remnants of the dream that clung to him like cottonwood seeds.

Finishing in the shower, he wiped the condensation off the mirror, attempted to brush his wet ringlets to no avail, and brushed his teeth. Looking at the rats nest that was his hair, it always annoyed him that Izzy and Alex were the only two who could brush it out, and not make it look like he’d stuck his dick in a light socket. Grabbing some type of graphic t-shirt and a pair of jeans, he threw on his boots and left.

Flicking the lock from the mouth of the driveway, he turned himself towards town, breathing in the now wakening air. Feeling the press of the sun just below the horizon, he looked to the Manes house as he passed, slowing down enough to look in the window. Alex stood there, surrounded by his brothers and his dad. Shoulders slumped in on himself, looked at the ground, wavering slightly as he balanced on his crutches. 

Even from the road, he could tell that Alex was weary, and already being subjected to the abusive crap he’d left Roswell to avoid. Clutching the steering wheel, he knew, just KNEW that if he stormed in it would make things a million times worse. Either Jesse would try and break his other hand, or he’d lose complete control of his powers and kill the man. Forcing himself to look away, defying every fibre of his being that screamed at him to park and rescue Alex, he also knew Alex wouldn’t thank him for that either. Sparing one last look at the house, he growled under his breath, eyes going slightly wide as the front window shattered. 

Peeling out as quickly as he could, he wouldn’t learn until much later that the only person who saw his truck was Alex. And as confused as he was, Alex had a small smile on his face, despite how they parted ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the short chapter. This was at least 400 words longer than the original incarnation. Couldn’t logically put anything else in here so...short chapter.


	5. Homeward Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Welcome home Alex.” 
> 
> The first words he’d heard Michael speak in two years. Not an argument. Not a fight. Just simply welcoming him here. To Michael’s home. He knew but didn’t know that he only had to ask, and this too small Airstream could also be his home. His safety and refuge. 
> 
> Without thinking, when Michael offered his hand, he reached out and took it, feeling like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. He felt something settle inside himself, like all the pieces finally lined up and settled where they should. A feeling of wholeness and contentment that he’d only ever read about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick dip into Alex’s POV. And what better time than when he and Michael are literally asleep at the same time.

Alex sleep was restless by the time they were over the Atlantic and almost frantic by the time they were over the US. No-one on the flight dared interrupt his sleep after he tore a strip off his brother who had flown over to escort him back home. The missing leg gave him a fair amount of leeway for a shitty attitude. Never mind the fact he felt like he was going back to face a firing squad when he saw his dad. That didn’t factor into anyone’s thought process because on paper they looked like the perfect family. 

Alex’s bruises were always easily hidden after all. A lot of long sleeves despite the weather in Roswell. When Jesse had caught him with eyeliner, the punch to the face and the sneering comment, “Might as well learn how to do it all.”

He’d snuck off to Maria’s place that night and hid under her basement stairs, Mimi swearing a blue streak, trying her best to colour match and giving him a grim look when he begged her not to phone social services, or Sheriff Valenti. He knew that he wasn’t doing himself any favours, and his dad was escalating, but he also was afraid of being shunted into the system back then and separated from his brothers. 

In hindsight that wouldn’t necessarily have been the worst thing to have happened to young Alex Manes.

Allowing himself to drift further into sleep, having been informed they were still a few hours out from landing, he buried himself under the scratchy blanket with the incredibly uncomfortable suggestion of a pillow and let his mind wander where ever it would take him. The droning of the engines of the C-130J, despite being loud as all hell, was enough to drown out everything else and let him sleep.

The phantom pain in his missing leg wasn’t even that noticeable with the constant vibration in the webbing he’d curled himself into. His scar was itching a little bit but it seemed to abate even with the pressure of resting his hand on it. It warmed and cooled from time to time, and the Doctor’s simply attributed it to being relatively new and the flesh still tender. He didn’t really care, and was at least past the absolute revulsion of touching where his leg used to be intact. He was still reluctant to let anyone but the doctors see it, but that, he was told, would likely get easier in time.

Or it wouldn’t.

They seemed to say that a lot these days.

Without even realizing he’d slipped into a dream, he looked around and saw himself in the desert on the outskirts of Roswell. The sun was warm on his face. The breeze carrying the promise of rain that wouldn’t even mark the dried earth that was thirsting for a reprieve. His shoulders felt light, and he could feel the ground beneath his feet. Foot. Looking down, he didn’t even question that he had a prosthetic, even though that appointment wasn’t for another week or so. The sun was starting to set and he knew he had to get where he was going when the stars were coming out. 

Hailing a cab, he gave the driver the address and ignored the pointed look he was given. The destination belonged to one of Roswell’s less savoury residents, but he knew it wouldn’t be a problem. Some people were always there, whether you knew it or not. Stable as bedrock, and as reliable as the phases of the moon. No-one could see what was inside the other man as well as Alex could. 

“Michael. His name was Michael. Not the other man,” he softly chastised himself. He spent so much time and energy trying to make the connection less real. Less important. That they were friends, who happened have had sex a number of times before. Besides, Michael had a soulmate and once he found that very lucky person, he’d never give Alex a second glance. Not broken the way that he was. 

Instructing the driver that he’d walk the rest of the way from the mouth of the driveway, he paid the man and watched him drive off, shaking his head at Alex’s naïveté. Making the trek down the long drive, Alex squinted at the sun as it was dropping below the horizon, taking with it the oppressive warmth that clung to the air and feeling the sharpness of the night air take its place. Everywhere around the world had a different feel, but there was something about being right here, always on this land, that made the smell feel sharper. Stronger. More...welcoming.

The dull throb in his injured leg reminded him to take it more slowly, reminding himself that he didn’t have the coordination he once did. No more dancing on tables with Maria after a half dozen too many shots. Maybe a slow dance if he was careful. His destination wasn’t too far, and he was grateful to see what had unofficially become his chair was still sitting near the fire pit. 

Looking towards the Airstream, he heard Michael clattering around organizing things and putting them away. For all his bad boy sex appeal, Michael liked an orderly space. Even if his logic wasn’t anyone else’s. The curse of genius.

Sitting in the seat, he extended both of his legs feeling the pressure abate on his damaged limb, he sunk into the chair realizing exactly how exhausted he was. Letting his head loll back, he heard the door open, then shut. The telltale stomp of feet in cowboy boots, and the offering of a beer. 

Watching Michael look up at the stars in the wide eyed wonderment he’d always seemed to have possessed, he smiled when Michael sat beside him. 

“Welcome home Alex.” 

The first words he’d heard Michael speak in two years. Not an argument. Not a fight. Just simply welcoming him here. To Michael’s home. He knew but didn’t know that he only had to ask, and this too small Airstream could also be his home. His safety and refuge. 

Without thinking, when Michael offered his hand, he reached out and took it, feeling like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. He felt something settle inside himself, like all the pieces finally lined up and settled where they should. A feeling of wholeness and contentment that he’d only ever read about.

Feeling Michael lift his hand to his cheek, rubbing it like he was a cat scent marking, he was astonished to feel the dampness. Looking over and seeing the silent tears rolling down MIchael’s smiling face, a vice gripped his heart. He never wanted to see tears on Michael’s face, even though he knew they were happy tears. He’d suffered so much, and had so many hard edges. He was so kind and so sweet to so many people and they didn’t even notice him. 

Michael slowly turned his head, and with a smile said, “I love...”

Alex jerked awake at the gentle shaking of his shoulder. HIs brother looked down at him with that already too common look of pity on his face. Rubbing his hands over his face, he was grateful he hadn’t been crying but it was a near thing. 

Looking at the clock, it was 5am. It would be a short drive home and then he’d face the Sergeant long before he ever wanted to. 

Never again would still be too soon.

The one thing he was lucky about was that he wouldn’t have to drag his luggage with him this time. The duty staff had been informed that they’d be taking Alex’s stuff back to his Dad’s house.

Grabbing his crutches, he followed his older brother out and across to the Jeep that was waiting for them. 15 short minutes later, he was walking into the house and sure enough, his father was there. 

Leaning on the crutches, he let his mind wander as he was unofficially dressed down for being so stupid as to get himself injured like this. Blah blah comment about seeking attention...blah blah...homophobic remark....blah blah...creak.

Looking up at the creaking noise that was coming from the picture window, he didn’t flinch, much, when it blew outward. Laughing softly to himself when his dad and brothers hit the floor, he looked out the window to see if he could identify who blew up their window.

The only thing he saw were the taillights of a beaten up old truck peeling out, and the look of astonishment on his Dad’s face. He recognized the truck immediately.

“Did you see who took out our window?”

Michael Guerin.

“Not at all Sarge. Must’ve missed them.”

Hearing his dad grumble under his breath, Alex ignored him and made his way to his bedroom on the main floor.

“You’re in the basement now Alex. Had to take over your room for a bigger office. You understand.”

Alex bit back the angry retort, and merely nodded.

“Yes sir I do.”

Making his way to the kitchen to go down into the basement to the bedroom that was set up down there for the few rare times they had company.

“I understand completely.”

Awkwardly heading down the stairs, he collapsed on the bed, too tired to even give a shit, though smiling as a dream took him away, about running through a strange world with Michael holding his hand, and starlight in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the span between updates. Had family out for almost a week and it’s rather difficult getting time to write in this circumstances. Plus side, Mom doesn’t have lung cancer.


	6. Let Him Shoot Me Down; Let Me Call Him Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael isn’t always the most couth to begin with, but there is an under current of brutal honesty that flavours his words.
> 
> Alex is used to his glib ways.
> 
> Sometimes all you need is someone who gets you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Michael makes a really crass joke about Alex’s injury. I am in no way making fun of the injury or the people who have lost limbs. It was part of a story that a former colleague told me when he came back from a war zone with a similar injury. (He was head of HR in one of the locations I worked.)

Roswell was just large enough of a town that everything was spread out fairly nicely, but conversely too small if you were trying to avoid anyone. With the parade that had been held welcoming back Alex, Michael hung to the back of the crowd, hiding behind people, and generally trying to keep himself scarce. Which made his goal of trying to set his eyes on Alex even more difficult than he’d anticipated. Not enough people to totally disappear in to, but too many to make this job and easy one. 

Michael had made his way to the Crashdown once he was at least convinced that Alex wasn’t going to be stuck with his father for the rest of the day. The man just came back from a war in one desert area, only to land back in an older war in a different desert area. Seeing that Liz was his escort post-parade let him relax a bit of tension in his shoulders. He didn’t miss the guarded way Alex was moving around, politely nodding his head in thanks for people acknowledging his service, and putting on a suitable look to acknowledge when someone projected the type of sympathy that was more to make themselves feel better about things than to make the wounded feel better. Michael felt his blood boil a little at those people. Two years ago they wouldn’t even have acknowledged Alex. Now it was like he was a long lost son who found his way home.

“Should have never left in the first place,” Michael muttered into his too terrible coffee. 

He liked Mr. Ortecho well enough. But the man needed to replace the coffee maker. A part of him wanted to just crush the thing to force him to buy a new one, but he’d already messed up the man’s life enough, he didn’t need to mess it up any more than he already had. 

Hearing the door jingle, the cafe was starting to fill up a bit more, which made sense given it was hotter than hell outside, and at least the air conditioning worked. The iced tea and lemonade were pretty good, even Michael would admit that. The tea strong enough to walk on, but tasty nevertheless. 

He was aware he was taking up an entire table on his own, but he had papers spread out. Mostly for selecting his course for next semester, and a few of the ones he was going to do over the summer. If he went up to Albuquerque for three weeks there was a condensed couple of in class courses he needed to round out his minor so he could graduate, and one course for his major that would let him take two fluff classes in fall semester and graduate a semester early. He’d been gone for longer, it wouldn’t be a problem for Maria to watch his stuff again. Especially if he kept her in stuffed penguins like she seemed to demand.

Odd lady. But. She was the closest thing to a best friend he had outside of Max and Iz so he was happy to have her. 

“This seat taken?”

Hastily grabbing his papers and stuffing them in his bag, he waved a hand at the person who approached the table.

“Pull up a chair.”

Looking up from closing off his backpack, Michael felt his mouth dry up when he suddenly was face to face with the dark eyes that haunted every one of his dreams since he was 18 years old. 

Alex’s face had change in a dozen subtle ways. His eyes displayed a tenseness that wasn’t there the last time they spoke. Some superficial scarring. The crutches were an obvious addition. The tan on his face and forearms made Michael almost moan right there in appreciation. He loved the look of Alex’s sun kissed skin, especially under the glow of a full moon in the desert while Alex slowly rocked them to ecstasy. Taking a hasty sip of his coffee, he barely acknowledged when Liz and Maria joined them in the booth.

“Welcome back. But you know if you were looking for a way to lose some weight quickly, there are less extreme methods you could have gone for.”

Michael’s voice was as dry as his wit. Maria gave him a scowl and slapped his arm hard enough that it hurt. Liz kicked him under the table, and Alex’s jaw dropped in shock, but he oddly enough didn’t look that angry. 

“Michael that is so...”

“...just...”

“...were you born an idiot or is this a master class type thing?”

Liz babbled on in muffled Spanish curses that made even Maria blush. Michael understood every word. It was New Mexico. EVERYONE spoke Spanish. Or at least understood it. 

Michael merely shrugged and sat back in his chair, easing into the skin of the long suffering asshole he so often pretended to be. It wasn’t much of an act. He knew that he didn’t have the most fantastic track record with tact and why would today be any different.

“What. I thought with everyone faking their sympathies so they’d feel better, he’d know that at least one of us wasn’t afraid to be a jerk to him.”

Michael shrugged and looked at Alex who he could tell was fighting the urge to actually laugh.

“Ladies, while I appreciate you trying to defend my honour, let’s remember who we’re talking to here.”

Fixing his eyes on Michael.

“I’d say he was born in a barn but I think that’s a little classy, wouldn’t you agree Guerin?”

“Well most people would just say I’m an asshole.”

“Well you are what you eat.”

Michael almost choked on that, blushing a lovely shade of red. Liz and Maria both hooted in laughter. It was a rare, RARE treat when someone so obviously got the last word with Michael, they bowed to the master.

“And with my honour thoroughly shot through, I’ll leave you pretty little things to it.”

Picking up his bag, he leaned over and whispered into Alex’s ear, low enough that Liz and Maria wouldn’t hear.

“Besides. I’m getting a little hungry...”

Alex, who was much better at hiding his facial expressions didn’t give the game away, but he felt the way his heart fluttered in his chest. Swallowing casually, he just nodded his head like he’d said something rather banal. 

Michael threw his bag over his shoulder and proceeded to leave the cafe not sparing a glance back, because he knew, deep in his guts he KNEW if he looked back, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from crushing Alex in his arms and crying with absolute relief that he had come home. Even if they weren’t together. Even if they would never be together he was just relieve to see that he was alive.

Ignoring the itching burn of his soul mark, he ignored it until he was in his truck, where he pulled up the pant leg covering it to take a closer look at it. It had changed colour a little bit to a more relaxed shade of red. Smoothing some aloe on it to kill some of the itch, he drove back to the Airstream without much thought about his soul mark shifting colours, or the interaction he’d had at the cafe.

He wasn’t going to lie to himself. He knew that he would likely spend part of the night jerking off to the memory of the smell of the sunlight on Alex’s skin, or husky depth of his voice. Or his eyes. Dear gods those eyes. They still looked right through him without even knowing they did. While Michael would admit that he never looked far from Alex at any point in time, Alex had no idea the effect he had on Michael just by glancing in his direction. Brushing his fingers over the mark on his leg, he felt a jolt of cool clear energy flood his body, wishing, just wishing, that the mark existed on Alex too. So he knew when Michael was thinking about him. Missing him. Loving him.

Pulling into the yard, he hopped out of his truck and saw the notice on the door of his trailer. He had two weeks to move or they’d seize his property and evict him. He’d already worked it out with Sanders to move to the yard there, which suited him just fine considering he’d been using the hidden bunker for years with his alien research. 

Digging up something a little more substantial than a bag of chips, he tossed together something that resembled a late lunch, taking it outside with a beer, and sitting in one of the lawn chairs he’d stolen from Max the last time his brother was getting all high and mighty with him. Stretching out his legs, he basked in the heat of the sun beating down on him, squinting at the brightness but that was about all. He didn’t seem to have an issue with staring directly into the sun, which further made him wonder about his physiology. Not that he’d ever get an answer, but he thought about it anyway. Maybe he was supposed to be a stellar navigator, being able to stare into the heart of a neutron star without flinching.

Chuckling to himself, he took a pull from his beer, before taking a bite of his sandwich. Kicking off his boots, he wiggled his toes to get the circulation back in them. He thankfully wasn’t prone to stinky feet (suck it Max) but like his sister, he was attracted to some types of footwear that looked hot, but were torture for more than an hour of use. Cowboy boots. Exhibit one. But he’d been wearing them almost all his adult life so he wasn’t about to break habit. Besides. He knew that Alex liked when those and his cowboy hat were all he was wearing when he was riding Alex in the desert. He’d have to invest in something a little more comfortable for the future.

Kicking himself mentally, he was already planning a future with a guy he just heavily insulted, even though it was largely in jest, in a very public place. His only future with Alex was likely going to be with a restraining order, or with Maria and Liz giving him death glares whenever he was around. He might have to rethink asking Maria to collect his mail next time he went away. She’s likely boobytrap it and he’d end up losing a finger.

Grabbing his boots and taking the empty plate and beer bottle back inside, he wiped off the crumbs, knowing full well he was going to be using it again for dinner, he just set it in the drain board and put the empty bottle under the sink. Firing his boots to the far end of the trailer, he sighed. He could keep reviewing class stuff but there was no real rush to that either. 

Collapsing in his bed, he let himself drift off into a dreamless sleep, figuring a nap might do him some good to keep his mind from going overly active, and over thinking his last interaction with Alex. The sounds from the highway droned as a type of white noise he’d grown accustomed to. Pulling off his plaid, leaving himself in a just slightly too small white t-shirt and his jeans, he buried his face in the pillow thinking wistfully about dark eyes that have seen too much, and knew too much about him.

As he drifted towards consciousness some hours later, his mind registered before he was fully awake that he wasn’t alone in his darkening trailer anymore. Shooting up in bed, he looked at his pathetic dinette and saw Alex Manes sitting there with a beer in one hand, and a burger in the other. Blankly realizing that there was one there for him, Michael edged off the bed and joined him, stomach growling too loudly to be easily ignored.

Silently taking his proffered meal, he took a bite, moaning a little in appreciation. It was from the good place on the east side of town where he didn’t go that often because these things were damn expensive. But everything on it was exactly what he liked, right down to the horseradish mayo. Smiling what he knew was a dopey smile at Alex, he was rewarded with one in kind. They were in private. They were away from everyone. And with the comfortable silence falling on them, he wanted nothing more than to live in this moment for eternity. 

Feeling the tell tale pinpricks in his eyes, he looked down and away first. He could stare into the sun and barely flinch. But one look at Alex left him raw and exposed. There was no logic here. No sense. No reason. He didn’t want it. He just wanted to have Alex’s eyes as intent on him as he felt is were on Alex. He wanted a thousand smiles more than a single kiss, and he thirsted for a kiss like a desert rose thirsted for rain. 

Blinking slowly, he only then realized that Alex was talking to him.

“Hmm?”

“God Guerin. Not even paying attention? I was just saying thank you.”

“For what exactly.”

Alex’s mouth quirked just a little bit.

“For being an asshole today after enduring the never ending hordes of fakes and pseudo-sympathetic shit heads trying to make themselves feel better about gawking at my missing leg.”

Michael shrugged and nodded his head.

“Least I can do for our newest local hero.”

Alex threw a napkin at him before getting to his feet.

“Where are you going?”

“If I don’t get back to the house before Dad does I’m worried that he’ll start going through my shit. Especially now that he’s moved me into the basement and he’ll use it as an excuse to ‘help me unpack’.”

Michael’s eyes darkened at that information. The stairs in the Manes house were treacherous with two functional legs. He bit his tongue to avoid saying anything insulting, but he was not impressed. 

“I can drive you.”

“I’ll head to the road and call a cab. Thanks anyway.”

Alex moved himself towards the door, turning the handle and throwing it open.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Last thing either of us need is him catching you dropping me off.”

Michael looked down at the ground, scuffing his socked foot against the floorboards. There was some truth to that. Truth he absolutely hated. 

“Okay. Well. Thanks for the burger I guess?”

All of a sudden he was 18 again, shy around the boy he wanted to kiss but didn’t know how to pursue those feelings.

Alex reached out a hand and took one of Michael’s. Giving it a squeeze, he nodded with a smile.

“Maybe next time we can go and get one together?”

Nodding a little too eagerly, Michael’s face lit up, even as Alex moved further away from him.

“I’ll see you...”

“ALEX!”

Before Alex could finish the statement, his crutch slipped off the side of the door frame, pitching him to the side where his leg should have been to brace himself, but instead the pinned pant leg did nothing to save him from falling to the hard packed ground.

Or it would have if he didn’t feel a curious sensation wrap around his body, arresting his downward trajectory, even as his crutches bounced on the ground. Looking up at Michael who still had the look of fear on his face, Alex couldn’t help but notice the clenched fist shaking with what could only be considerable effort. Michael pulled his hand back, and Alex felt himself gently lifted, then righted, pulled back into the trailer, and set down gently on the bed as if he weighed no more than a feather.

The crutches jumped up and landed in Michael’s outstretched hand.

“Michael. Look at me.”

Michael looked up at Alex, afraid of the look he thought he’d be seeing.

“I...guess we need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from “Your Ghost” by Greg Laswell.


	7. Gentle Secrets Whispered in the Dead of Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations begin, and hope burns eternal. Some open wounds get prodded at, and some healing begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SO SO sorry it has taken me so long to publish this. Literally Life happened and would not slow down for me. Hoping for more frequent updates. 
> 
> Again.
> 
> SO SO SORRY!

Alex had moved himself with careful hops to what would generously be considered Michael’s sitting area, picking at the label on the top of the beer bottle, chewing on his bottom lip while trying to work through the whirling thoughts that were almost overloading his mind. 

As the sun had set on Roswell, Michael had told him everything he thought that Alex should know. Including everything that had transpired with the drifter when they were barely into their teen years, what had happened with Rosa after their magical evening in the shed. All of it. He’d even spilled on Max and Isobel’s secrets, intent on not leaving anything secret between the two of them. He’d even offered to take Alex to the junk yard and take him down to his lab. Alex had declined that invitation largely because the climb down the ladder would be dangerous with only one leg. It would still be dicey once he had his prosthetic but it would be leaps and bounds safer to say the least. 

Michael stayed where he was, leaning against his suggestion of a fridge, not moving so as to not spook Alex who had been calm and silent through his entire narration. There was something in the look in Alex’s eyes though that definitely told him that things had changed a bit between them, but the fact that Alex hadn’t called in his military buddies was, what he hoped a good thing. 

Alex sat up a little, taking a drink of his beer, Michael a little annoyed with himself for getting distracted by the way that Alex’s lips played on the mouth of the beer bottle. He knew this time that Alex wasn’t talking, more intent on drinking his beer. When Alex looked up at him through his eyelashes, he could feel the questions where likely about to start. Michael was prepared for anything Alex might be thinking to ask, even if the question was how to kill him. 

“If you’ve had this power since you were barely into your teen years, why didn’t you stop my Dad before he…” Alex looked pointedly at Michael’s mangled hand.

Tucking it behind him, even though he knew damn well that Alex had memorized every inch of his wound, he couldn’t seem to meet Alex’s eyes.

“I didn’t have great control of my powers when we were teenagers. I…I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to push him away from us, or if I’d kill him. I didn’t want you looking at me like I was some kind of monster, and I didn't want you to look at me like the bastard who killed your Dad."

Alex unconsciously quirked an eyebrow in Michael's direction. 28 years of living with that asshole, either in person or in spirit, had definitely left Alex firmly in the, 'You would be doing me a favour if you killed him,' camp. Shaking his head, he took a final pull from the beer before setting the empty on the table.

"Did you ever want to tell me?"

Michael meekly nodded his head.

"More times than I can count. I just...didn't know how...I mean. I should have trust you enough to..."

Michael cut himself off hearing the wavering in his voice. He'd dreamt of telling Alex, so many times. But in nearly every dream, it ended with him, best case scenario, dead. Worst case scenario, Alex calling him a monster and turning his back on him.

He didn't hear Alex get up from the table. Pinching the bridge of his nose until he was seeing stars, he barely noticed Alex wrap his arms around his waist. It was equal parts comforting and the need for support himself, since his crutches were not in arms reach. Instinctively, Michael wrapped his arms around Alex's waist in turn, resting his forehead on the other man's shoulder, just breathing in the scent of his skin, letting it calm him and relax him in a way only acetone ever did. 

Holding Alex a few moments longer, he gently helped Alex sit on his bed. The slight vibration from only the one leg carrying Alex's weight was starting to show the strain it was feeling. The fact they were several beer deep and it was the strong stuff he picked up from detouring through Canada, so both their heads were a little fuzzy. They'd long since agreed that Alex should stay here, even knowing that Jesse was probably going to go through Alex's stuff. Not that he worried per se. All his secrets were locked up where Jesse himself couldn't find them.

"I've seen you walk away so many times Alex, that I didn't think I'd survive if I thought it was permanent. I couldn't risk it. I'd take a thousand times of you walking away from me, if it meant 1001 times of you walking back. I mean...I've left Roswell a bunch of times, but only when I knew you wouldn't be here."

Alex perked up at the admission, feeling his cheeks go red in shame. He always felt like he knew that Michael would always be here waiting for him to come back. It wasn't fair to him. At all. Alex knew that. But he couldn't help the selfish feeling of joy at Michael's admission. Looking at Michael in curiosity, he silently encouraged his lover to continue.

"I'm almost done my Engineering degree. I've even been accepted to a couple Masters programs pending final grading next semester. The only person who knows is Maria, because she keeps an eyes on this shit hole, making sure my bills are paid if I'm on the road. And...you."

"Not even Max and Isobel?"

Michael shook his head. Sniffing, he shrugged.

"I wanted to tell you first, but you were in some forsaken desert. They don't exactly have the most faith in me so...figured fuck 'em on this. Even when were weren't always getting along, you still believed in me more than most so..."

Michael shrugged again, scuffing his toes against the floor. When he dared look up at Alex, he saw nothing but pride and admiration for what he'd just said. 

"You...are about to graduate with an Engineering Degree...AND have already been accepted to more than one Masters programs. Michael...I am so proud of you."

Alex reached out and tugged him down to join him on the mattress. Michael fell in a graceless lump beside him but managed to not land on him. Barely. Feeling Alex wrap his arm around his shoulders, he leaned into the gentle touch, letting his eyes flutter shut a little. Turning his head, he gave Alex a gentle peck on the cheek.

"I'm not having sex with you tonight Alex."

Alex smirked and nodded his head.

"That was...not the furthest thing from my mind I'm not going to lie. But I get it. Can I stay here with you tonight?"

Michael merely nodded.

"I still have a pair of your sweatpants here if you want 'em. They have to be more comfortable than those jeans."

"Michael Guerin...trying to get my out of my pants already?"

Michael snickered before turning his attention to where he stashed his clothes. Squinting slightly, Alex watched him in fascination as the cupboard door swung open, and a stack of clothing that was neatly folded slid out and landed on the table. Michael got off the bed and dug out a pair of Alex's sweatpants that he had recently laundered on a whim.

Handing them over to Alex, Alex looked at them with some hesitancy. 

"Do...do you mind not watching while I change?"

Biting back a retort about how they've seen each other naked, Alex was looking forlornly where his leg used to bed. Turning around like a gentleman, Michael simply nodded his head.

"No problem. Just let me know when you're ready."

There was a weight to his words that extended beyond just tonight. Alex let out an audible sigh of relief, before leaning back in the bed to wrestle himself out of his jeans and into his change of clothes. Michael for his part did the same thing, except tossing his shirt into the laundry pile. He'd taken to keeping his soul mark hidden these days. 

"Okay. I'm ready."

Michael turned around to see Alex had adjusted himself on the bed so he was on His Side. Michael approached the bed, and carefully shifted over Alex so he could get on the other side of his sometime lover.

Adjusting the blankets, Michael traced a hand under Alex's shirt. With a questioning look, Alex nodded, hesitantly at first, which was enough to make Michael start to back off. Pulling Michael's hand back, he nodded more firmly, letting him pull off his shirt. Letting himself get cocooned in Michael's arms, he felt the familiar scratch of Michael's chest hair, followed but the undeniable scent of his skin. 

What he didn't expect was the feather light tough that Michael used to caress the stump of his leg. Instead of it being abrasive or intruding, he felt himself shiver slightly in anticipation. Looking up into Michael's eyes, he smiled softly before pressing a lazy kiss to Michael's lips, which was returned in kind.

Eventually, they fell deeper into their kisses, which in turn pulled them closer to sleep. In the end, they would reflect later, that while they didn't have sex, they found something more important for themselves that night than chasing an orgasm. They found a rhythm for their intimacy, which lead to pleasant dreams, for once in the last 10 years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit of a bear to write. I've re-written it. Twice. It's getting me closer to where I'm going with this story though. :-)
> 
> Comments are always welcome!!!! I need them to live....


	8. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slowly things are being worked out, revelations to be had, but still some lingering questions.
> 
> And bagels. Can't forget the bagels.

The sun filtered through the too thin window coverings that gave some modicum of privacy to the outside world, though the entire set up of the Airstream did nothing to block the outside noises, especially those of expensive SUVs making their way down the gravel path to where Michael was parked. He'd be moving the Airstream today, having gotten the okay from Sanders to park on the property there, which eliminated his excuses for being late to work. He'd still find a way. He did a lot of work around for Sanders when he was in town, but those days were being fewer and further between. Michael wasn't too sure what the old man's thoughts were, but every so often, he thought he caught a spark of recognition in his sometimes-boss' eyes that lead him to believe he knew more than he let on.

Michael sat up and peered out the window. Isobel was pulling in with Noah in the front seat, holding what looked like a bag with the good bagels inside. Smiling a little to himself, he leaned over and whispered a kiss across Alex's brow.

"Isobel and Noah are here."

Alex's eyes fluttered open, just taking in Michael's face haloed with daylight. 

"Okay."

Michael relaxed a bit before looking at Alex sheepishly.

"In all my dreams whenever something like this would happen, I was always afraid that you'd be worried about people finding out because of..."

Michael looked down at his hand, moving to hide it under the blanket. Alex reached out and captured it with his own. Bringing it to his hands, he kissed the knuckles and let his tongue trace around the scar tissue. Michael let out a rather undignified moan. The skin was more sensitive to be sure, and the nerves were a little raw. The gentleness in the gesture was a simple thing, but something that any of his hookups over the last decade avoided. At most it would be a thing of pity which he hated more than anything.

"Alex..."

Alex teasingly flicked the tip of his tongue out and traced Michael's ring finger before pulling back when Noah and Isobel marched in like they owned the place. Alex grinned up at Michael, especially the flustered blush that was creeping across his cheeks before sitting upright. They were obviously still wearing pants, but the way that Michael was suddenly holding his pillow was all Alex needed to know about the effect he had on him.

"Morning Isobel. Noah. What brings you here?" 

Michael's voice was a little strained and the innocent look on Alex's face was doing nothing to help the situation. His brother-in-law held up the bagels and cream cheese, and Iz held up the coffee.

"If I'd known you were entertaining, I would have asked for your friend's coffee order."

Alex shrugged and intercepted the coffee that she was handing over towards Michael. Smiling, he took a sip.

"No worries Iz. Last night Michael and I did a WHOLE bunch of sharing. I don't think he'd mind splitting the coffee. Would you? Michael?"

Popping the tab open on the top of the lid, with Alex's face partially obscured, he licked at the opening a little provocatively before taking a sip and letting out a small moan. Michael swallowed heavily, vowing to whatever messed up god put him on this planet with this man, that he would get his revenge. 

"Not in the least Alex. You're welcome to whatever you can put your mouth on."

Noah for his part snorted his scalding hot coffee straight out of his nose, while Isobel had the sense to not be drinking anything until the exchange was done. Smiling at Alex, she pulled up one of the kitchen chairs and stretched out her legs, resting her feet on the bed beside him.

"Nice to see you're in good spirits despite hanging out with my brother here. But tell me Alex," Isobel's eyes narrowed a little bit, "what exactly have you and my brother dear been talking about?"

Alex felt the tingle in the back of his mind that Michael had told him about and how to look for signs Isobel was poking around in his mind. Giving her a rather level gaze, he snorted before taking a sip of his coffee.

"You know. The usual. This and that. Getting caught up on the last ten years. Conversations about teenage camping trips and the like."

Squinting back at her, he smiled as the thought directly at her.

_'What he remembers about falling then waking up 50 years later.'_

Isobel looked a little startled at that, while Michael looked more than a little pleased with how Alex handled himself.

"We talked about everything Sister Dear. Well. Everything important including what I'm building in the basement."

Isobel handed over the breakfast bagels giving Alex the second one she usually bought for Michael. Looking over at Noah and his confused expression, she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Silence doesn't really become you Noah."

Shaking his head, he shrugged.

"So I guess I'm not the only person who knows you're aliens then?"

Michael's eyes opened a little wider at that. Alex, not knowing the extent of who did or did not know their secret was rather unperturbed. His assumption was that Noah had to have known something given that he and Isobel were married.

"Well if we're going to talk in the open, Michael did tell me about everything last night. Including the fact that Max isn't aware that anyone knows your secret. Which is safe with me by the way."

Taking a bite of his bagel, Alex grins at the taste. As much as he resented and to a degree hated Roswell, there was one thing they seemed to get right when no where else in the world stood close. Steak and egg breakfast bagel from the Good Bagel place. Isobel relaxed a little bit and Noah breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now at least I have someone to talk to."

Michael picked at his breakfast and stole a sip of his coffee. Relaxing a little bit, he sat up and maneuvered Alex to sit between his legs, pulling up the pant legs just a little as the room was getting a bit warm. Even Is was starting to perspire a little. Closing his eyes just slightly, Michael opened the windows and started pushing the air around to generate a small breeze. He could do that with minimal concentration. Smiling as Alex traced his soul mark, feeling the gentle caress moved slowly up his spine. Looking down at it, instead of the angry red or black it usually was, it was faded to a more natural colour, soothed by Alex's touch.

"Huh. I never really noticed that before."

Noah perked up and looked over, mouth full of salmon and lox.

"Hmm...?"

"Well I'd forgotten what your soul mark looked like."

Michael looked down at it, barely even recognizing the mark as it was right now on his body. Alex set down his bagel and pulled up his pant leg, feeling somewhat emboldened by the people he was surrounded by. Exposing the still angry scar on his leg, he quirked his eyebrow a little. It was looking a lot less irritated than it had when he'd left Germany.

"It looks just like my scar."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'd been beating myself up about not getting chapter 7 up when I signed in to AO3 and realized I HAD published it. I hope you enjoyed this kinda short chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> As of the commencement of this writing Episode 6 just aired last night and I just watched it on iTunes. I don’t know how canon compliant it will be by the end. I will likely cherry pick some of the stuff from the show itself as I’m writing and it’s airing. Total AU though.


End file.
